In the mid-1950s, it was still legal to burn your trash. We had an alley in back of our house and we would often burn trash in the alley, because there was nothing to burn if the fire got out of hand. The alley was blacktop, our fence was a block wall, so we thought it would be safe to burn our trash in the alley, in a large metal trash can.
One afternoon, I was out supervising the burning trash, making sure embers didn't spread the fire. While I was standing out in the alley a boy a few years younger than me rode up on a bicycle. "Ya want some money?" he asked me. "Sure", I replied without hesitation. He handed me six dollars and drove off on his bike.
When I told my Mom, she told me the boy had probably stole the money and had to get rid of it. I didn't care where he got the money, I was just glad he gave it to me. I would never see this boy again. But this incident would later have a profound affect on my life.